


All Die Young

by Zh_8



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Post-Season/Series 02, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zh_8/pseuds/Zh_8
Summary: Picks up where the season 2 finale left off. Number Five meets someone who is as unhinged as him from the Sparrow Academy, just in different ways.(Like a series of one-shots with some time jumps and a broad plot running through.)
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Original Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Vanya Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124





	1. The Sparrow Academy

"Shit."

The freshly battered Umbrella Academy muttered, as they stood in the oh-so-familiar, yet unfamiliar, living room, facing what Reginald Hargreeves had just introduced as the "Sparrow Academy." Aside from the new and shockingly hostile version of Ben, posing across the baloney are six people Five has never seen before—the enormous man in the middle is reminiscent of Luther's imposing strength, and his puffed-out chest and position in front of others signal him as the de-facto leader. (Or at least, like Luther once-upon-a-time, it's a position that he has claimed for himself). Two women flanked him: one with unruly black hair, red lipstick, and a smirking confidence; the other, slender and blonde, bears a striking resemblance to the man in the middle. ( _Twins, perhaps?_ Five thought.) Next to the women are two people who seem to Five stood out the most, despite their off-center positions. Next to the blonde is a man with what can only be described as a ragged baklava over his head, like a wet, grayish paper bag. It took Five's eyes, still a bit blurry from the time traveling, a few seconds to adjust and realize that that is not a bag, but the man's _head_ —rumpled and scarred to such an extent that its features are scarcely recognizable under the lumpy flesh. And despite his slouched posture, the man emits such a menacing energy that Five cannot help but shudders for second. Finally, standing behind the other woman and with her arms crossed, is a girl who looks markedly younger than the rest—14 or 15, at the most. Short and engulfed in a baggy sweatshirt, her demeanor can only be described by Five as _disinterested_ , as if she couldn't care less who are these strangers that have just popped up in her home, despite the gathering that they had warranted. It was only after Five's quick and instinctual assessment of these people that he noticed the goddamn floating cube next to their heads. _Fuck._

\--

The Umbrella Academy and Sparrow Academy sit across each other in the living room—both sides sizing each other up in the tense slience—with the man who created them both facing the children that he chosen not to adopt this time around. 

"So, this is what you do, is it? You meet your _own_ children in 1963, who asked for help saving the world, and not only did you do fuck-all to help them, you go and get some brand _new_ kids?" Diego's anger was barely contained, despite the bitter laugh with which he tried to hide it. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Well, _Diego_ ," Reginald drawled out slowly, "you all seemed to be extremely unhappy with the way I have raised you. I thought I would grant your wish and spare you the lifetime of resentment and malcontent that you so clearly harbor. And based on the fact that the world is not on fire right now and was not on fire in 1963, am I correct to assume that you have succeeded in saving the world without me?"

"You are a cold bastard, you know that." Diego started to rise, but Allison interrupted him.

"But what about us? What about the us that were born in 1989? Are they out there right now, living their own lives?" Her concern was clear, as she was obviously thinking about Claire. 

Five's body chilled at a the thought. It would be really fucking annoying if he has to deal with another version of himself. He already knew that that guy, whoever he is, would be a pain in the ass. 

Reginald paused for a moment, and wiped his monocle, "I do not know."

"You don't know? What do you mean 'you don't know'?!" Allison scoffed and threw her hands up, "I mean, you must have known which ones we were as babies, so you would know _not_ to adopt them. You are telling me you haven't kept track of us all these years, just to make sure we don't end the world a third time?"

"That thought did occur to me, _Allison_." Reginald's voice was cold, "When I was searching for children to adopt out of the 37, I paid special attention to babies with signs of your specific temperaments and abilities, in order to make sure that I would not bring together the people personally responsible for the apocalypse, despite having been trained for the exact opposite purpose. It was, of course, shocking to me when I realized that children such as you do not exist."

"'Do not exist'? What do you mean, 'Do not exist'?" Five piped up now, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. The girl sitting on the couch diagonal to him, looking bored all this time, seemed to peak up and turned toward him. Five ignored her. 

At the same time, Diego laughed, "37? You need to work on your intel, old man, there was 43 of us born on that day, not 37."

"I assure you that my intelligence-gathering was thorough and accurate. There were, in 1989, only 37 children born in such strange circumstances. It seems that you six," he made a poof motion with his hand, "simply did not exist."

"But how is that possible?" Five's mind is working on overdrive now, "If we were never born, and if we never existed, then we wouldn't be here at all. We should be gone, erased from history."

"My best guess, Number Five," Reginald's face finally seems to betray a hint of sympathy, "is that time, especially time at our disposal, is in flux. It must always corrects and mends itself, in order to ensure that there is some semblance of continuity. The inevitable paradoxes, caused by all this traveling and disrupting that you six have engaged in thus far, must resolve themselves in the simplest way possible. And that is your continued existence for now, but not the simultaneous existence between the you now and your past selves."

"You know, we had lives here before we landed in 1963. Real lives with real people," Allison stood up and spit out her words, " _important_ people. and you just what, erased all of them because you couldn't handle the responsibility that you screwed us up the first time around? You are playing with people's lives!" 

"Yeah!" Klaus chimed in for the first time and stood up too, always ready to jump into chaos. "And you didn't even do that right. You wanted to avoid us, old man? That guy," he pointed to Ben, who has now switched from the unfriendly scowl that he has worn this entire time to a surprised look at his sudden inclusion in the conversation, "that you have somehow shaped into Asian Brandon Urie, was our brother. The one who died. He's one of us, HA!" 

"I raised you all for one purpose—to save the world. Once I knew that not only do you not save it, but that you were the cause of its very destruction in the first place, why on earth would I choose to bring you together again? And Number Two," he looked toward Ben with a reassuring nod, "If he was one of you, it is no matter. I assure you that he is no longer the boy that I am sure you all failed once upon a time. He is now, under the tutelage of the Sparrow Academy, a strong and capable asset."

Klaus's face fell, and he looked away. Damn if he wasn't just showing the way they all felt right now: stunned, confused, and plenty lost. 

"What about Grace and Pogo, what happened to them?" Diego asked. 

Reginald looked uncomfortable for the first time since the conversation began. "Grace, heeding your advice in 1963, decided to separate herself from our endeavors. She asked to keep Pogo under her continued supervision, and I saw no reason to stop her. Last I heard, they reside in Portland and have made excellent progress in terms of the ape's intelligence." He looked away, "Besides, it seemed that one of my mistakes in raising you in the time that never was was introducing soft, indulging human figures such as Pogo and Grace, which is why I have devised Christopher," he gestured to the floating cube, which Five was glad has finally been brought up. "He functions as a secondary guardian and teacher to the Sparrow Academy. As you can see, the Sparrow Academy has not disintegrated in adulthood, pointing to the success of my changed method." 

Vanya became the next one to stand up. "Guys, let's go. He obviously never cared about any of us." She looked toward him, "You know, Dad, I thought a lot about what to say to you, about everything you did to me as a child. But standing here right now, you know what I want to say to you? _Nothing_." She shrugged, "Just nothing, Dad. It's time you mean nothing to me anymore."

Reginald huffed, and Five has heard enough. He stood up too. "Well, I'm glad everything worked out for you, Reggie." He clasped his hands, "Seeing that we were never born, and that you have found a new group of emotionally stunted man-children to keep under your thumb, I guess this is goodbye." He proceeded to walk out. "See you never," he tossed out behind him, _you fucking fuck_.

His siblings followed suit, some of them wanting to say more, but all of them not knowing what more to say. Reginald called after Five, "You know, Number Five, the Sparrow Academy could use a young man with your capabilities," his voice haughty as ever. "There is a room here for you, should you wish for it."

Five turned around with a smirk, his jaw set, "Not on your life, old man."

"And what about about you, Number One?" He turned to Luther, who has remained markedly silent this whole time. The large man of the Sparrow Academy shifted in his seat uncomfortably when Reginald used the title Number One for Luther. "Even with you unique _enhancements_ _,_ I'm sure we can find some use for you in the Sparrow Academy. You would no longer be Number One, of course, but you could have a purpose again, a reason for being."

Allison turned around, ready to rip Reginald a new one. In this moment, she was not above rumoring her no-longer-Dad to punch himself in the face. But Luther spoke before she could. Looking up with his big, sad eyes—now with a new, colder light in them—"Screw you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing anything ever. Apologies for any mistakes, especially in formatting and stuff since I'm pretty new to the website! Tysm. 
> 
> (Description of the Sparrow Academy is taken from what we know from the comics so far, but one of them have been switched out for the OC. And another one was dropped because I forgot lol, but hopefully that's alright since aside from the original seven, let's just say not that many other parents could be persuaded to sell their children.)


	2. The Kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump!

It has been one year since Sir Reginald Hargreeves passed away (again), but three years—give or take a few days in 1963—since Five had slept in his childhood bed. Of course, now it hadn't ever been his bed in the first place, but one of the many spare beds left dusty and untouched in the large mansion. None of the Sparrow Academy children had preferred to live in this attic-like room on the top floor (which Five liked both for its remoteness and large, inclining walls upon which he could scribble out his equations). _And good riddance, too._ Five thought. He wasn't sure he would have liked having another person's life in his old space, as much as it was never his.

After leaving the only place he has ever considered home on April 2nd, 2019 with his siblings, they had engaged in quite a bit of drinking first, and a good deal of cursing toward their dear old Dad (who, of course, was no longer their Dad). It did not feel great to be greeted—after saving the world—with the fact that not only do they not have a home, but also that they now have no origins, no history, no support, and no family except for each other. Granted, they were the ones who screwed up the world twice, but Five thought that their efforts still warranted some semblance of thanks. At least, to not be left on the street by Sir Reginald. Personally, he had a desire to grab an axe and smash something, maybe not Reggie's face—he would not stoop to faux-patricide—but something similar. It was not until the bartender asked them to pay for the copious amount of alcohol that they had consumed (including the 3 bottles of vodka by Luther alone), and they were thrown out after threats of violence exchanged, that they realized the reality of their current situations: they were now truly orphans in time. 

Five's immediate reaction was to fix things. Obviously they had fucked up the timeline—although seemingly not to a world-ending degree yet—but if he could just find the right equation, the right jump, he could fix everything. Maybe he could go back and stop his younger self from going to that coldhearted bastard in the first place. _But wait, if he never got Reginald's advice about jumping in seconds, they would all still be dead back in that barn._ So he went around and around, holed up in a dingy motel room for months, while his siblings began trying to figure out the pieces of their lives. 

As painful as it was to lose their original lives (especially for Allison), Reginald's betrayal eventually proved to be a small parcel of blessing. Without resources—but also without the burden of _the_ Umbrella Academy—his siblings were granted true fresh starts. They soon reintegrated into the world they had left, now a bit more ordinary, but also a bit more well-adjusted and supportive for each other. Despite Five's continuous efforts, he slowly came to realize that his siblings are actually _fine_ now as they are, and it was he who was holding on to the past. Holding on obsessively because that was all he had known for so long—holding on to one apocalypse after another. 

So he traveled for a bit, wanting to see the world without the ashes of destruction or the weight of being a trained assassin, but he always got bored quickly. He visited with his siblings and often lived with one or the other for a time, but never for long. He was aimless, adrift, unsure of what to do in a world that does not need saving. 

Ironically, it was Reginald's death that brought the Sparrow Academy and the Umbrella Academy back together. None of the original Hargreeves children had plans to attend his funeral, but a late-night drinking session between Allison, Vanya, and Klaus—and the subsequent call from them to the others—convinced them to go. Not only was the last time Reginald died the signal for the oncoming apocalypse, saying a final goodbye to the man who had once raised them could also make for good catharsis: slamming the door shut on their crazy past lives. Five, for one, just wanted to go and make sure that A, the old man is really dead, and B, he didn't off himself again because he knew something that they didn't about the end of the world.

The funeral provided plenty of deja vu for all of them, if only for the fact that without the staunch presence of Reggie at their first meeting, it was clear that the Sparrow Academy is just as dysfunctional—if not more—than the Umbrella one. Tempers flared, and it was—funnily enough—a fight between Diego and a much-more-confrontational Ben that broke the tension (and a lot of furnitures). 

Ben and Diego bonded first, and then Ben and Klaus. Even though this Ben has zero history and a lot less patience for his brother-from-another-timeline, as well as a lot more aggression and confidence, there still was some sweet and gentle nature underneath. This only became apparent after numerous initial clashes, of course. Although Five was apprehensive at first, as he hung out with this Ben more in the company of his other siblings, he began to see glimmers of the Ben he grew up with: in the way he got shy after Vanya asked about his childhood, an initial flinch if someone recognized him in the streets—before shifting back into bravado—and a protective nature toward Klaus's more self-destructive tendencies. 

Five was _extremely_ uninterested in gaining new siblings. He was already being held hostage by the five he has now. But as Ben started to mix in more with the Umbrella siblings—a little lost after living under the strict structures of Sparrow Academy for so long—the others began to come together as well, bonding over the unusual lives that they have led and/or the unusual traumas they have endured under Reggie. The Sparrow Academy, more put-together on the surface, had been in reality crumbling for a while, and Reginald's death was the final nail in the coffin. Pun intended. 

Five now knew that the swaggering woman was named Carla, although Reggie had ranked her Number Four. From what he first heard from Vanya, she was friendly, kind, a little peppy, and quite curious—even excited—to get to know the Umbrella Academy. Her power is akin to Allison's, only instead of bending reality, her words function on a more psychological level. Five was immediately alarmed and distrustful when he heard this. This woman had the power to manipulate any of them, and she _wanted to meet them?_ He was tense and on guard the entire time he met her, and he told Allison to keep an eye on her, but she seemed nice enough. She did not use her powers once, which she stated was reserved for missions—"or, you know, whenever a guy gets too douchey"—and she seemed to have a way of making Vanya come out of her shell. That Five appreciated. 

The girl who Five had noticed that first day was indeed younger. Turns out, without the Umbrella Academy's birth mothers, there weren't that many other parents Reginald could entice into giving up their child. According to Ben, Sir Reginald just showed up one day when they were 12 and announced that there was now a new infant member of the Sparrow Academy, Number Six. _Guess Reggie had to go scrounge for scraps._ Five was not displeased. Now she calls herself Jane. He still hasn't met her yet, and he's not entirely clear on what her power is, but he knew that she had come with Ben to hang out at Klaus's a few times, which includes both the nightclub Klaus now runs and his apartment above it. Five did not know how exactly Klaus had conned his wayinto this, or how he is staying sober living above a literal swirl of temptations, and he did not really care to. Klaus seemed to be doing well anyway, and taking Ben under his disturbed wings. _Kids_.

Number One and Number Three—the blonde woman—have the powers of strength and stretch respectively. Five knew that they invited Luther and Allison out to lunch one day in the interest of mending bridges. That had been a _very awkward_ meal, given how Luther and Allison thought it was a double-date, and One and Three had thought that they were simply meeting pair-of-leader-siblings to pair-of-leader-siblings. Five chuckled. He kind of wished he had been there to see the look on Luther's oafish face. After the initial weirdness passed though, Five knew they had kept in touch. He had met the new One and Three once or twice. They seemed much more adult and sensible than his own siblings, but a bit colder too, mechanical. 

And so this how Five now found himself, three years later, sleeping in his old-but-new bed. He had spent the past few months loafing around Vanya's apartment, listening to her practice violin while he worked on some quantum theories. But he was getting restless, his mind racing and his hands itching to do more. What's more, he was becoming more than a little uncomfortable with the increasingly flirtatious interactions between Vanya and Carla. So he went to Klaus's for a bit, where apparently Diego and Ben were crashing as well. That was just too much _youth_ energy for him. Finally, he found himself at Allison and Luther's place, up in Harlem where Allison was working as a community organizer and Luther was, well, jogging and cooking apparently. But when the friendly old lady from the neighboring brownstone suggested to Allison that she should enroll her nice young _son_ into the local _high school_ so that he's not just hanging around the house all day, Five knew that he had to get out of there.

He was trying to figure out how this 16 y/o body may be able to get officially emancipated and rent a more permanent place somewhere when One and Three showed up. They had come with an offer: not the Umbrella Academy, not the Sparrow Academy, but something new—something different, autonomous where they would all have a say in what missions to go on. Something good and decent but also making use of their unique skill sets, which to be fair have few applications in the real world. _Independent contractors, basically, mercenaries._ Five thought cynically. But really, it didn't sound too bad to him. He had hated his life under the Commission, but that was mostly due to the indiscriminate killing—the innocent people and their desperate pleas for life that he could not seem to get out of his head. He was, after all, fairly proud of his work when used for the right purposes. And this may be as close as he would get without an apocalypse to chase off. 

After his initial, absolute _annoyance_ at finding out that Luther was the one who had told One and Three to ask him this—guess his big, monkey brother was worried about him, even though he _was_ not a child—Five, to his own surprise, accepted the offer. There was nothing better to do. Now he lay on this strangely familiar bed, in this strangely unfamiliar house, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He shifted his body, irked by this sudden onset of nerves. Tomorrow they would talk more about what to do and how, but tonight he just had to get a good night's sleep. _Fuck it._ He thought, standing up, and jumped downstairs for a cup of coffee.

\--

"Fuck," Five muttered under his breath, as he rubbed where his hip had just bumped into the sharp counter corner. _Of course the kitchen is different_ , Five thought as he cursed Reginald. At least there is a pot of coffee. Five jumped next to it and was pouring himself a cup when he heard the back door squeak open, and he turned around. 

A shadow moved in and did not seem to notice Five. Instead, it made a sharp turn for the counter across from him and climbed up, rummaged in the cabinet, and took out a slim bottle. 

"Aren't you a little young to drink?" Five asked, leaning back on the counter and holding his cup. 

The shadow was not startled. She paused for a moment, then turned around. Looking at Five, Jane cocked an eyebrow, "Aren't you?" 

"Fair enough." Five shrugged and made to leave. 

"Do you want some? Baileys, I mean," still crouched on the counter, she nodded toward the cup in his hand, "for you coffee."

Five hesitated for a moment, then walked toward her. "Why not."

"That's the spirit." She turned around to bring out another bottle, then jumped down from the counter with one in each hand. "Baileys for you, vodka for me." She poured the liqueur into Five's cup, then took a swig from her own bottle. "Yum."

For a second, they drank in silence. 

"So are you the one then? Number Five?"

Five was a bit taken aback, "Yes. Why?"

Jane shrugged. "Is it true that you are 58 years old?"

Five smirked over his coffee, "Yes."

"Hmm," she looked him up and down, "a bit short for 58, aren't we?"

"Yes, well, there weren't exactly a lot of nutrients in the apocalypse."

"No milk?" She cocked her head.

"No milk. Lots of cockroaches though."

Jane made a face, then took a drink from her bottle. "Must have been rough." She seemed thoughtful, and Five was getting uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

"It was no picnic. Well, good night." He began to walk out, but once again, she called to stop him.

"So are you joining them then, this merry little band of heroes that One and Three are putting together?" She set the bottle of vodka down, moved to the fridge, and opened it. In the low blue light, Five could see this girl more clearly. With smudged makeup around her eyes, her face was flushed, as if she had just been running. A large sweatshirt engulfed her body, running down to her knees. And is that _glitter_ in her hair?

Jane took out plate wrapped in tin foil, set it down the counter, unwrapped it, and grabbed a fork. "Yes! Bill didn't eat this yet." She muttered under her breath, then she looked up at Five, "So, what about it? Are you all gonna put on the mask and the spandex again, and run around the city like a pack of superheroes?"

Five breathed out a short laugh, "No one said anything about spandex." Paused. "And no one said anything about superheroes."

"Maybe not then," She shrugged. "But the masks. You've gotta wear the masks. They are positively iconic."

Five smirked, "Well, I'll be sure to ask your brother about that."

Jane took a forkful of the chocolate cake and shoved it in her mouth. Five decided to make his third attempt to leave. "Ok then."

"Can I ask you something?"

Five turned around, impatient now. "Well, It doesn't seem to have bothered you all night." 

She had grabbed her plate and her bottle, and headed toward him. "You worked for the Commission right?"

Five froze, one of his hands tightens on his mug, and the other balled up in the pocket of his pajamas. His jaw set and his eyes narrowed. "What do you know about the Commission?"

"Just what Klaus told me." Jane seemed unfazed by Five's sudden tension. "He said you had a five-year contract with them or something, and then they could take you out of the apocalypse and drop you off anywhere. But you broke it to time travel to your siblings, and that's how you got stuck in this—" She eyed him, "— body."

"Klaus has a pretty disturbed mind. I wouldn't trust anything he says."

Jane laughed, "I'll tell him you said that." 

"What's your question?"

"Well, my question," She said slowly, standing in front of Five, and he noticed that she swayed a bit. He wasn't sure if he should reach out his hands to make sure she would not fall. "If you only had to work for them for five years, why didn't you just do that, wait for them to _plop_ you in front of your siblings after," her lips formed an _O_ around _pop_ , "and Bob's your uncle."

Five was surprised. Although his siblings have questioned him over the past few years about his time with the Commission, none of them had asked him this. After all, it does seem like to the logical choice. Less risky, and five years should be nothing next to the decades he spent in the apocalypse. But Five never really trusted the Commission's bullshit about letting their agents retire peacefully, and he doubted they would have just let him warn his siblings about the world ending. But perhaps most importantly, he was just so _tired_. Tired of the killing, tired of the screaming and crying and the fear, tired of being the harbinger of death to people who had been so perfectly content going about their ordinary lives just seconds before. He wasn't about to explain all this to some girl he had met five minutes ago though. So he said, with biting sarcasm, "Well, it was a bit tough killing people year round for five years without any vacation days."

"Ah okay." She smiled, "Terrible per-diem too, I bet."

Five as a bit stunned by her response, but returned the smile after a beat. "The Commission was not a group of very generous people."

"But now you are going back," She took a drink, "to killing people, I mean, for my brother and sister. And for no benefit this time." She was very close to him now, her face looking up just under his chin. Her eyes were innocent—glazed, even—but there was a hint of sharpness coming through under those thick lashes that told Five she knew exactly what she was accusing him of. 

Five became thoroughly defensive again. _Who the hell does she think she is?_ But before he could come up with some scathing retort, she backed up and threw her hands up—still holding the cake and the bottle—and said, "Hey, hey, no worries. I get it. I mean, it is a bit addicting, isn't it?" She full-on stumbled this time, and Five felt a strange instinct to reach out and steady her. But she caught herself, and was now walking away from him. "The power, the control, the feeling that you are the only thing standing between them and nothingness. It can be such a rush." As she passed him, she turned, looked at him in the face, and smiled. Five was caught off guard. She went on, "My power has nothing to do with fighting or killing, but I do miss it sometimes." With that, she walked into the hallway.

It wasn't until she was almost gone that Five turned and called after her, "And what is your power, exactly?"

She turned around and smiled, in a sing-songy voice, " _I see dead people._ " 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ok so I don't think it's incest between Carla and Vanya since they weren't raised together? At most it's a Serena-and-Dan from Gossip Girl type of situation, connected through nonbiological parents. Oof, you know when you have to go into technicalities that it's not great, but I didn't even plan for this. I was just writing and thought why not. So hopefully it's okay.


	3. The Roof

It was deep into the night when Five was woken up by a sound outside his window, a soft clattering on the fire escape.

_Someone's here._

Before he's fully awake and finished the thought, he had already jumped next to the window. Decades of constant vigilance in the apocalypse and then a few years of perpetual threats as an assassin had left him sleeping with one eye open. It wasn't until he placed on hands on the cool windowsill and calmed himself down—his eyes adjusting to the vacant darkness outside—that he realized it was probably just some pigeons. He pushed a hand against his eyes and a wave of annoyance washed over him. _Fucking pigeons_.

It had been a long day for Five. They were asked by the authorities in Brooklyn to infiltrate a shipping vessel full of things Five didn't care to find out more about—Drugs or weapons or people or something or other—and take down the group of mercenaries guarding it. His job was to jump in and stealthily take care of the assholes patrolling the ship's major areas—the engine room and the bridge, lest they tried to pull something—while One and Three worked their way in from the front. Things went sideways when Five couldn't cut off the arm of a man on the ground before he reached the alarm and alerted the entire ship, as he had been busy wrapping the rubber hose around the neck of the man's buddy and throw him over the railing. All hell broke loose, and while One, Three, and him were able to take out everyone in the end—they were still just brutes with machine guns—it was more _difficult_ than it should have been, and that frustrated Five. He returned to the mansion with aching bones and a deep desire for sleep, and he did _not_ appreciate some damn pigeons waking him up. He was just about to jump back to the bed, when he heard the footsteps above him. 

Since he had started working with One and Three a month ago, he had learned that Bill, his very own number-counterpart in the Sparrow Academy, had chosen to live on the roof of the mansion after Reginald's death. His power—essentially the human equivalent of a voodoo doll—had been pushed to its limits by Reginald over the years, which had also caused him to look the way he does today. Harming himself over and over again just so that he can transfer the pain to others in combat, until his body was made mostly out of scar tissues. After Reginald died, Bill chose to build himself a little apartment next to the green house on the roof, and now spends his days tending to the various plants inside. Five bumped into him in the kitchen one morning, when Bill had come down to make himself some soup (which was about the only thing he can ingest through his disfigured mouth). He had been shy, polite, and reserved. With a pang, Five had realized then how much Bill reminded him of the Ben from his childhood: both cursed with painful, terrifying powers, and both driven by Reginald to exploit the powers until they destroyed them. But Five knew Bill was not all darkness and torture, either. According to Ben and Klaus, he had been more than happy to grow some choice herbs for them in his greenhouse. 

But Bill lived on the other side of the roof, and he always went to bed pretty early. Five glanced at his watch. _2:46 a.m._ So who the fuck was on his roof then? He considered jumping up there to check it out, but just in case it was Bill coming out for a late-night stroll, he didn't want to disturb him. So he grabbed a knife and stuffed it into his waistband, and climbed out onto the fire escape. He would just check it out real quick. 

When he peeked his head over the sides of the roof, he didn't see anyone at first. Then—underneath a spotlight from the moon—he noticed Jane lying in the middle of the ground, looking up at the sky on top of a heavy blanket. Clad in a red dress and black heels, she had headphones around her ears connected to a DiscMan by her side. Her legs were crossed, and one of her feet dangled to beats unknown to Five. Jane didn't seem to notice him. _Alright then_ , Five thought to himself, and began to climb down. 

"Are you always in your pajamas?"

Five stopped. _Shit_. After a second of hesitation, he climbed back up and pulled himself onto the roof. Feeling a bit awkward just standing there—true, in his fucking pajamas for the second time in front of this woman—he stuffed his hands into his pockets and replied with what he hoped came off as annoyance, "When I'm in the middle of my eight hours, yeah."

She sit up on her elbows and frowned, "It's a little early to be sleeping, isn't it? Grandpa _._ " 

He straightened his shoulders and went to put his hands on his hips. But realizing immediately how much of get-the-fuck-off-my-lawn stance that is, he quickly put them down. "It's almost 3 in the morning."

Five saw her eyes widen in the moonlight. Jane looked away and laughed quietly, "Damn, must have lost track of time." She looked back at him with a sheepish smile, "Sorry."

It was Five's turn to look away now. He shrugged, "It's fine."

He was surprised to see her scooch over on the blanket and pat the space next to her. "Here," she held out one of her ear buds, like it's a peace-offering. 

Five hesitated. But deciding that if he left now it may give off the impression of running away, he walked forward, sat down, and put the headphone in his ear. Jane went to lay down again, which inevitably pulled him down as well. 

At first, Five's body froze. He lay there rigidly, his back stiff, his arms straight by his sides. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten around a bit in the past few years, especially when he was traveling and his body could pass for a young college student. He wasn't exactly a monk during the few years he worked for the Commission, either. After living on his own for over 40 years, even Dolores couldn't judge him for that. But those romps had always been quick, efficient—transactional, almost—and he never stuck around after. It was strange to him, lying next to someone for no reason except to just, well, lie there. 

A soft voice, backed by a light, trickling beat, flooded one of his ears. _Hmm, That's not bad._ Despite the night's chilliness, he could feel the heat coming off of Jane. He closed his eyes. His other side felt strangely empty. 

They lay there for the reminder of the song. Jane's foot still bopping to the beat. And now that he was closer, he could hear that she was humming softly too. When the song ended, Five wondered if he should leave. But another song came on—a little faster, the same female voice, now a cover of something that Five was 95% sure is from the 60's. Maybe he heard it in 1963? But before he could think of its name, Jane had yanked the earbuds off and jumped up.

Five, startled, jumped up too and had pulled out the knife in his waistband in one swift motion before he realized what Jane had said, "I love this song!" The DiscMan was playing out loud now, a low volume that ebbs and flows around them. Jane stood in front him, looking at the knife in his hand—up and pointed in her direction—and raised an eyebrow. Five muttered a curse under his breath and returned the knife to his waistband. Looking at Jane, he smirked and shrugged, "Sorry."

Jane just stared at him in silence, an unreadable expression on her face. Before Five could get nervous, she broke out in a loud laugh, which almost made Five jump again. Then, pressing her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter, she whispered, "Shit, don't wanna wake Bill up." Five, putting a hand on his neck, can't help but laugh a little too. 

Jane smoothed her hands over her dress, then—no longer laughing, but with an amused expression still on her face—held out her hand toward Five. "C'mon, dance with me."

Her gesture felt a little defiant, a little childish, like a little girl making a request that she knew wouldn't be turned down. But there was something else in her eyes, something Five can't quite get ahold of. It was, of course, Five's first instinct to make some acerbic remark ("I'd rather stab myself with my own femur") or to just jump away without a word in response to such a request. But Jane had been pretty nice so far, and he did not want to come off like a bitter old man all the time any more. (Especially not after that Grandpa comment.)

So he took her hand and—as if his body knew what to do—pulled her towards him. Startled, Jane stumbled a little, but soon gained her footing, and wrapped her other arm underneath his shoulder. The music trickled out around them, upbeat and staticky, but it seemed louder now to Five somehow, like it was right next to his ears. Laughing quietly, Jane twirled herself out for a spin, and Five held out his arm to oblige her. (Taking half a second to thank the old man, wherever he is now, for forcing themselves all into dance lessons when they were young.)

Jane spun back into his chest with a little more force than perhaps she meant to, and Five braced his other arm around her. Looking up at him, she asked, "Is this what you guys listened to when you were young?"

Five narrowed his eyes, "You know I was born in 1989."

"Hmm," Jane murmured. "Is this song not from the 80's?"

"No, don't think so."

"Ah," She smiled, but it looked regretful somehow. Like the song's discography was a personal tragedy. "Too bad." 

Before Five could even fathom what was going on in her mind, she seemed to snap out of it. Raising her arm above her head—her hand grasped in his—she closed her eyes and spinned. But she tripped on the blanket, and with a startled laugh crashed into Five, who steadied both of them before they could tumble backwards. "Shit-t."

And it was there—their arms tangled around each other, the weight of her body pressed against Five, and her laugh still hanging in the air—that Five looked at her and feel himself laugh too. And just for a second, they were frozen, grinning like idiots, and Five had the strange sensation of utterly not knowing what to think, do, or say next. 

Across the roof, a light came on. _Bill._ And they jumped apart, like kids who had been caught staying up past their bedtimes. But their arms were still around each other, the song was reaching its last verse, and with the new light source from afar, Five saw clearly into Jane's eyes for the first time that night. A light smile was still on her face, but her eyes looked large and almost ghostly under the stinging warm light. Large and strangely dilated. _Too dilated._ Too empty.

_Fuck_. 

A small part in the back of Five's mind observed with mild interest at the wave of embarrassment, annoyance, anger, and _dejection (?)_ that washed over him then, which came from not only the realization that he had somehow let himself go and care even a little bit about this strange night, but also from the fact that there is almost no chance of the girl in front of him remembering this tomorrow morning. How had he missed the airy undertone in her voice, the unsteadiness of her movements, and the absolute, _unreasonable_ comfort that she seemed to feel around him? Was she simply too good at hiding, or was he too distracted to see? Either way, for someone who had always prized himself on being the most perceptive person in the room, it was unacceptable. And besides, _Who care if this girl you basically just met had evidently been high out of her mind this entire time? Who cares if she's just playing around with him? It's none of his fucking business._

At the same moment that Five was coming to his realizations, a change came over Jane too. Her eyes fell, a breathe caught in her throat, and she dropped his hands as if they were made of burning coal. She was looking at the ground, but her eyes were not seeing the uneven tiles and wrinkled blanket. And just like that, the song had ended. The dance was over. And a rush of cold air ran through the space between Jane and Five that had not existed moments before. She stepped back, wrapped her hands around herself, and looked away toward the light in the near distance. "Umm, yeah." She cleared her throat, "I'm probably just gonna sleep up here tonight." 

Five, snapping out of it and realizing that his hands were still up ( _like an idiot_ , he thought venomously), shoved them into his pockets hastily and looked away too. "Right, yeah." He hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself, "Ok." Turning around sharply and almost tripping in the process, he disappeared in a flash of blue lights. 

\--

"Fucking fuck." Five groaned with his hands over his eyes. He snatched up the watch on his night stand. _4:28 a.m._ _Fuck._ He cursed himself silently a couple more times, but he couldn't take anymore tossing and turning.

Standing up while still muttering angrily under his breath, he snatched the cover off of his bed and jumped away. 

On top of roof, it was silent. The light from Bill's apartment was off now, and it took Five a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. Jane was asleep on the ground. With her right hand underneath her head like a pillow, the headphones had fallen out of her ears and lay tangled around her neck. Some muffled music still coming out of them. Just as Five suspected, she was curled up tight on her side with only a corner of the blanket folded over her thighs. The winds seemed to pick up around them, and an early-morning chill was starting to set. Five set his cover on top of Jane, with more gentleness than he would have ever cared to admit. Then, making sure that she was warm to his satisfaction, turned around to jump away. 

But thinking of something more, he turned back, bent down, and carefully picked up and untangled the headphones around her neck. Dropping them next to her head in a pile, he picked up the DiscMan and opened it. _Just wanted to see the name of that song._ He said to himself. _It was a good song._

When he put the disc player down next to Jane's sleeping form, his fingers lingered for half-a-second next to her cheek. _Is that just trick of the shadows running down the side, or tears stained by mascara?_

Straightening up and straightening himself, he turned and was gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest and say that I have no idea if a DiscMan can play music out loud or not, but it fits the show's vintagey aesthetic so let's just say that it can lol.
> 
> Also I had some vague ideas of the songs featured but nothing too specific. Fell free to let me know if anything popped up when you are reading. Always looking for music recs :)


	4. The Party

"I'm just saying, if you take away the unconditional adoration and unlimited orgies, there really is a lot of similarities between leading an alternative spiritual community and the local government," Klaus declared as he shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding into his mouth. "If you need any pointers, Sis, I would be more than happy to give you some."

Allison rolled her eyes, "Thanks, Klaus."

"No problem at all. This is some great dessert by the way. Who is your caterer? Because I would love to speak to them about tweaking this recipe just a _little_ bit for some other purposes..." 

And that was Five's cue to leave. He took a sip of his scotch and walked away from the living room, where Allison and Klaus were still engaged in their captivating conversation. The Umbrella siblings had gathered at Allison and Luther's tonight alongside Allison's campaign organizers and friends to celebrate her recent appointment to the city council. Carla had come as Vanya's date, and Ben and Jane were here as well. Five hadn't realized that Allison and Jane were close, but they had met through Ben and Klaus and hit it off. Apparently, Jane even volunteered to help Allison look over some of her speeches and posters, when she wasn't off doing whatever it is that she does.

Earlier that night, Five had asked Ben about Jane. "She really just comes and goes from the old mansion at odd hours," Five popped a chip into his mouth as nonchalantly as he could, "What does she do all day?"

Ben narrowed his eyes, "Why do you ask?"

 _Damn, forgot that this Ben is a lot more suspicious._ "I like to know about the people who are popping up at my house in the middle of the night." Five shrugged, "Besides, shouldn't she be in school or something?"

Ben scoffed, "When have you known any Hargreeves children attending regular school?"

Five's face threatened to burn, but he looked away and set his plate on the tray of a passing waiter. "Fair enough."

Ben was still looking at Five with puzzlement. Five was about to make some disparaging remarks when Ben shook his head and chuckled, startling Five a bit (although he would never show it). "Well, Jane has always been a bit of an enigma, even by Hargreeves standards. I wouldn't try to figure her out."

Five gave him a hard look, "I'm not. I'm just trying to assess if your siblings are as crazy as ours—"

Ben threw his hands up, "Alright, alright, if you say so."

"—and if she poses any risk to me or my family."

Ben laughed, "Jane isn't a risk to anyone except herself." But then a thoughtful look came over his face. Tilting his head, he said, "Actually, that's not entirely true. She can be pretty dangerous when she wants to, and I know for a fact that she has done some crazy shit..."

Ben trailed off, still thinking, and Five asked, "What do you mean?"

Ben looked back at him, and smiled, "Nothing. Really," He placed on a hand on Five's shoulder and switched to a more earnest tone, both of which instantly made Five tense up. "Just, be careful, okay? Jane can be... sensitive." There was so much subtle understanding in the way Ben said this that Five felt, for a moment, that he was speaking to the younger Ben again. The one he knew before he jumped 17 years into the future. He shook that off.

"Sensitive? Sensitive, how?" Five asked, "Sensitive, like Klaus is sensitive?"

Ben shrugged, "In a way. Look, you should probably talk to her if you want to know more. Actually, maybe not though, I don't know if she's in a talking mood tonight..." He trailed off again, and Five, sensing that there was nothing more he could get out of Ben, took a sip of his drink. 

Five had initially been unsure about coming tonight. He really preferred more private gatherings with his giant herd of dumbass siblings, and did not like situations where he might be forced to— _ugh_ —make small talk with strangers. But tonight was about supporting Allison, and Luther had made it clear that his presence would be both appreciated and _expected_. Now he made his way to the bar, signaled for one more drink, and wondered if enough time had passed that he could get away with leaving. As he picked up his refreshed glass and leaned back against the bar, his eye fell across the room on Jane, sitting on the couch between Allison and Vanya, next to whom her own sister was perched on the couch arm. Her face looked a little red, but she seemed more clearheaded and... _open?_ than Five had seen her before. 

They all laughed at something Carla had said, and Vanya put a hand around Carla's waist. Five liked the fact that his previously-neglected, timid sister seemed to be becoming more confident everyday. As Jane laughed quietly, she pushed her hand against the back of her neck, causing her hair to fall in streams over her shoulder. It was a moment of shyness that Five would have never expected from her. And it was this inopportune moment that Jane looked up and caught his gaze. 

_Shit._ Five immediately looked away and took a drink, which unfortunately almost caused him to choke. _Fucking idiot._

But it was too late. Jane stood up and was now making her way toward him. In what seemed like a flash to Five, she was in front of him. "Hi," she smiled. 

Five was suddenly very aware of his body. "Hey," he replied. 

"No pajamas this time."

"What? Oh, yeah, right..." _Smooth, you idiot._ "Well, I didn't think Allison would appreciate me showing up to her victory party in anything less than my very best," He recovered enough to shoot her some sarcasm. _That's better._

Jane smiled, "Eh, I don't think she cares about what you are wearing as long as you don't show up naked." She cocked her head, "Looks good though."

"Hmm?" Five was caught off guard, but he looked down as his shirt-and-jacket combo, "Right. Thanks. You too." And she did. A black dress cinched at the waist, her hair smoothed and slightly curled, she looked both younger and more put-together than the twice he had seen her before. Her makeup was not smeared and nor heavy, but Five almost preferred the carefree way she had dealt with it before. 

"I mean, it seems a little too formal for your age," Still smiling, she took a sip from her glass. "But A for effort."

Five laughed. He had traded the schoolboy uniform and shorts a long time ago for a more mature version, but he had always liked the practical lines of a suit jacket. "You know, I'm probably older than almost everyone here."

She laughed too, "Oh right, yeah. Isn't it a little past your bed time, then? Must be tiring hanging out with _us youngsters_. "

Five smirked and raised his glass, "Well, you kids do keep me young."

She bumped her glass to his. "Cheers to that."

And for a second, they drank in silence. 

"Listen, though," she shifted uncomfortably and made a sheepish grimace, which put Five on guard again. "I'm sorry about the another night."

"Oh," Five widened his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

"No, it was my bad." She ran one hand around her neck again, and looked a little nervous. "I was having a bad night, and I probably overstepped. I'm sure you did the best you could with the Commission, when you and everyone were trying to—you know—save the world and all. And if you want to work with One and Three now, then more kudos to you."

 _Oh, she's talking about that night._ Five was surprised, but soon covered it with a wave of his hand, "I mean, you weren't really wrong. It does seem a little counteractive to quit working for one sinister organization killing people, only to turn around and work for another sinister organization killing people."

Jane laughed, and seemed at ease once more, "Well, I wouldn't exactly call One and Three sinister. He's more like a big, cuddly teddy bear who's good at murder," She winked, "and I think they were just bored. Without dear old Dad around, they still needed something to do."

Five returned her simile and took a drink, "I'm familiar with the type."

He set the now empty glass down and turned to her, but when he opened his mouth next, words tumbled out before he realized what he had said, "Well, I spent my whole life chasing the apocalypse. It doesn't exactly make for great peacetime employment."

Without knowing it, he had clasped his hands together and absentmindedly scratched at his fingernails, as if there were some invisible blood stained underneath. "Sometimes I think I've gotten so used to death, I don't know who I am if I'm not always _right_ next to it." 

He hadn't meant to put so much venom into those last words. But the anger and resentment that are constantly simmering within him—toward the Commission for turning him into the killer he is today, toward his father for driving Vanya to the point of causing the apocalypse, toward _himself_ for getting stuck in the future and getting stuck in this body and failing to stop the first apocalypse and stranding everyone in Dallas and messing up the timeline and ...—can be difficult to shove down. Controlling himself again, he dug his nails into his fist and looked at Jane. She was staring at him. There was something in her eyes.

_God, not pity. Don't let it be pity._

And it wasn't. It took Five a few seconds to decipher, but Jane was looking at him with... understanding? Neither of them said anything, till Jane smiled wistfully and looked away. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Five smiled and looked down at the bar, pensive. Behind them, Allison had put on a record in the gramophone, and a few people were swaying slowly around the living room. It was some springy Sam Cooke song—a remnant of Allison's time in the 60's. Before Five had fully analyzed what he was doing, he slapped the bar with some resolve and turned around. Holding a hand out to Jane, he said, "Dance with me."

 _Fuck._ At that moment, Five realized two things: 1) Even though it was better than when he first landed years ago, his body's current tolerance to alcohol was still lower than he would have liked. And 2) He had _definitely_ drank more than he meant to tonight. But before he could retract his hand or teleport into a hole underground, Jane had placed her hand in his, and she opened her mouth to reply. 

But before she could, the force of an explosion ripped through the house, rippling through the furnitures and the dancing people, and blew them backwards toward oblivion. In the distance, Five thought he could hear the muffled sounds of gunfire. And in that split second, still grasping his hands tight around hers, he willed himself to jump. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger! This was meant to the first half of one chapter but it was getting long so I thought I'd post it.
> 
> (Also would really appreciate any and all feedback on the writing lol, first time doing this so not sure if I'm doing alright or not.)


	5. The Abandoned Lot

_Boom._

Five crashed backwards onto the ground, his hand scraping the across the rough cement. Behind him, he could feel Jane land heavily as her hand, still gripped tightly in his, lurched backward. A sharp ringing sound permeated his head, and all around him, he could just make out the flashes of gunfire through the thick smoke. Looking around hastily, he tried to get his bearing, but everything seemed to be moving under water. He looked back at Jane, who stared at him with the same bewilderment and daze that must be plastered across his face right now. She was struggling to stand up, and he moved to stand while pulling her up, but before he could ask if she's alright, a frighting roar cut through the fire and chaos behind him. Five snapped around. 

Out of the still burning and debris-filled hole that used to be Allison's living room, Luther emerged—suit tattered, skin burnt, and not unhurt but not dead—with the enraged noise of a primate as bullets showered but bounced off of his body. He moved forward to grab the machine gun of the man closest to him, who was dressed like every standard black-op hired gun Five has ever seen.

 _F_ _uck._ _His siblings._ _Allison._

 _He needs to help them._ And in that second, the taste of blood from what must be a broken lip cut through the confusion of the aftershock, and although Five was still holding on to someone else, he moved to kill whoever he could get his hands on.

But before he could jump, a spray of bullets splattered across the grounds in front of him, missing his feet by millimeters. And suddenly, a hand yanked him backwards. "Run!" Jane's face appeared amidst the smoke, closer than Five expected, and her voice louder than anything in the muted, blazing chaos.

And before Five knew it, they were sprinting down the battered sidewalk, a barrage of gunfire on their heels. Around him, as the smoked cleared and the sharp night air emerged, Five could make out the sound of screams and sirens. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could just make out some innocent pedestrians, out for a late night stroll in their Harlem neighborhood, running or cowering in fear and confusion. 

He should jump. He needs to jump. _But to where?_ And he would need to take Jane with him, and the ache from the explosion was beginning to catch up, and he was out of breathe, and he was running, and his hand was still in Jane's but he couldn't muster enough momentum to pull her towards him or him towards her, and he was running, and _had all of those bullets really missed him?_

And they _can't_ slow down. 

Their pursuers seemed closer now, and every miss of their bullets felt like a miracle. Five risked a glance back. It seemed that a squad of the original attackers at Allison's—there were too many to count then and too little time, had there been 20? 30? _50?_ It seemed like there was an entire army congregating on a lone brownstone—had split off and was chasing after them now. Determined to eliminate. 

Five was pulled into a sharp turn. "Here!" Jane yelled.

They ran down a narrow, deserted alley, and emerged into a smatter of depilated, empty chain-linked lots. 

"This way," Five pulled Jane towards the right, down a rugged sidewalk. Behind them, the gunmen felt a little more distant, but have not let up. Up ahead, some darkened, crumbling parking garage loomed amongst the unfinished development. Without a word, Five pulled Jane towards him and jumped them across the chain-linked fence to the other side. 

Jane emerged stumbling, with her other hand on her chest, muttered breathlessly, "Oh my god." 

"Sorry," Five whispered urgently, "You—"

Gunfire erupted behind them. _Shit._ And they took off again, up the wide slopes of the parking garage and around. And around. And around.

The movement following them seemed to cease for a moment. They slowed down, and Five turned around while still moving backwards, panting. Nothing emerged for a second from the blackness on the building's other end that opened like an enormous, waiting mouth.

An arm reached out and pulled Five roughly to the right. Before he could attack, Jane had her back pressed against one of the wide concrete columns, and she had pulled him towards her. Five stumbled a little and braced himself against the column, his arms around her while one of her hand gripped his forearm. Five looked down at Jane, suddenly aware of how close they were and how each of her quick exhales seemed to hit above his open collar. Looking into Five's eyes, Jane moved her hand up.

"Shh..." With a finger on her lips, leaned her body slowly to the right and glimpsed around the column. Five followed suit. There was nothing for a moment. Then, the eerie green glow of night vision goggles begin to dot the distant darkness. 

"Shit. _Shit_. Okay." Jane retreated her body back in and looked at Five, "Okay." She took a deep breathe, then said, "We gotta take them out. Right here."

Five was taken aback. Jane was breathing a little less hard now, and in the thin moonlight casting through the building's sides, he could just make out her eyes, wide and shining. They still seemed a little dazed, but they did not look afraid. "What?" He asked

"I mean." She glanced around, then looked back at Five, "if we don't kill them now, they will just keep following us." With her back still against the column, she slid down toward the ground. Before an extremely startled Five could figure out what the hell she was doing, Jane—now crouching—reached out an arm around Five and carefully picked up a discarded steel pipe. Noiselessly, she stood back up, still anchored between Five and the column, and looked at him innocently. Catching Five's face, she raised an eyebrow. 

Five looked away. And despite the onslaught of danger and distress tonight—and perhaps because of those very things—Five could not suppress the small smile that formed on his face. He spared a look behind the column. The green glow and their accompanying bodies have nearly fully emerged from the darkness. Pressing his smile into a smirk, his jaw set, Five looked at Jane and said, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." As the moonlight shifted, Five noticed some seeping redness near Jane's forehead. _Shit_. She looked tired, but Five could swear he also saw a glimmer of excitement behind her eyes. She gave him an uneasy smile, "It's gonna be fun."

Five nodded, and stepped back. As he jumped away in a blue flash, already knowing whose neck he will snap first and gun he will take, Jane twirled her pipe like a bo staff and spun around. Her steel connected with one of the gunmen's skull in a sickening _crack_ , and it felt like music to Five's ears.

 _She does seem more than capable of handling herself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! School just started these past few days lol. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, they honestly give me motivation to keep writing, but I do enjoy writing anyways so no pressure.
> 
> I keep meaning to write longer chapters but end up splitting them. I wanted to post what I have so far and I will try to update soon. The next chapter may be rated M and I'll update accordingly if that's the case. Also, for someone who asked, we will get to see Jane's power in the next chapter, but it may be very different what you expected lol.
> 
> (Also, lemme know if anyone has caught the two pop culture/movie quotes that I've sprinkled into this fic so far haha.)


End file.
